Raising kids is hard fucking work part 1

The last few days have been hellacious. I have been in emotional purgatory which is soooo not like me. I am stoic, I am a hard ass. I don't cry. I drown my pain in vodka. (only some of the time, really). Tonight I had chips & salsa for dinner with cake batter for dessert. Emotional eating at its finest. What is the deal, you ask, what could be causing the coolest person alive to cry while shopping for christmas presents (emotional shopping much?)
Raising 2 kids is hard shit. The last few months I have pretty much come to the stark realization that if anyone wants their life to be easy peasy squeasy then they should never have more than 1 child. This is what it looks like to have 1 child:

Every day is a day on the beach filled with sunshine and laughter and sleep. You frolic by the ocean teaching your 1 child about the origins of shells and sand. You laugh gaily with your spouse and 1 child about how amazing your life is, wouldn't it be a grand idea to add 1 more soul to this amazing family. Double the love! The more the merrier! Fast forward 18 months later and you are this:

YOU HAVE MOM JEANS ON!! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU?!!!!!!! I will tell you: you have 2 children. I do not know what changes when that second little human is born. Your intentions are the same, you fully expect for this little being to blend right in and make your family complete, you can't wait to frolic on the beach learning about shells and sand. 

Then shit gets real.

The last year has been a constant struggle to give both boys somewhat equal attention and time. At first H got all of my attention because he was nursing every 34 seconds and puking all over the place.  I felt like a terrible mom to L because I barely had the time or energy to read 1 book much less the 376 we used to read every day to expand his mind. Well now that H only nurses every 59 seconds I feel that he is getting the short stick because I am so busy attending to the needs of a 4 year old that I barely have time, you know, play with him. I am pretty sure L was speaking 3 languages by 13 months and doing complicated algebra problems. L was my little side kick, I enjoyed taking him everywhere with me and I scoffed at other moms when they left their kids at home when they went to the store? "Don't you enjoy spending time with your children." I would think to myself pushing my 1 child around in the shopping cart, buying organic vegetables to puree into baby food later. 

Now shopping alone is a vacation, I will often spend double my budget just because the longer I am in the store buying things, the longer time I get without 2 little perfect beings NEEDING ME SO DAMN MUCH. We did baby led weaning, partly because I firmly believed in nursing exclusively longer than 6 months and partly because I was too damn lazy to puree baby food again. 

Why is it, that 2 children is not double the work? It is 2,304,320 times the amount of work that 1 child is?  The word children is only 3 freaking letters more than child. That shit is deceiving!
I keep trying to tell myself that I am not setting H up to be a drug addict by the age of 12 because he is the second born child. It all balances out because he has a loving brother to play with. RIGHT?!!  I keep trying to tell myself that L won't resent H for taking the spotlight off of him at the tender age of 3 and that he will delight in being a big brother for all the rest of his days. RIGHT?!!
We all end up a little bit fucked up right? Do you know anyone that doesn't have issues? Do you know anyone that wouldn't benefit from therapy? Cause I don't. So is it just the simple act of making it through a family unit that fucks us all up? Why does life persist if we are all so damn bad at raising kids? Have I totally stressed you out? Are you looking at your 2 children in tears, wondering if you are the reason they will be in therapy later?  Well sister, grab a bottle of wine, a box of cake batter, and let's commiserate.